More than a Mark
by ShedSomeLight
Summary: No amount of light can push away the shadows that have long clouded the sun. Even here, in Diagon Alley, traces of Black Magic have left their mark; whether it be on the cobble stone or on the brick walls. Memories, flashes of a twisted smile on a head with blonde hair cloud her senses. And Hermione can only hope that the sacrifices she has made were worth it.
1. Chapter I: Sudden Departure

_**2 Months Ago**_

"Hermione! Where the fuck do you think you are going?" Ron was not in the mood to watch his language when he caught his best friend packing everything of hers into her purse. The look of shock and guilt that crossed Hermione's face confirmed his fear. She was planning to run away without them. Without him.

"I don't need to explain anything to you, Ronald. Now if you'll excuse me," Hermione pushed Ron out of her makeshift room, "I need to finish packing. I need to visit my parents and know if they are safe."

"That is complete and utter bullshit! You and I both know that you would never risk their lives like that," he grabbed her by the wrist and fought his way back into her room. "Now, will you tell me what your real plans are or will I have to get Harry in here?" Ron was not backing down and neither was she.

Hermione's thoughts came to a complete stop. If she told Ron her plan… No. All of those months of running around in the woods looking for the Horocruxes would have been for naught. She had made up her mind and even though she thought she loved Ron, the war was bigger than them. Bigger than her.

"I'm so sorry, Ron" She slowly began to draw out her wand.

"What do you mea-HERMIONE DON'T YOU DAR-!" His shout was cut off as he was hit with a Stupefy, front and center.

"Goodbye," Hermione quickly donned her black cloak and purse.

Before she left the wards she scanned the clearing making sure no one would see her leave. She made sure Harry was nowhere in sight before she touched her Portkey and left.

* * *

><p>Author Note:<p>

Hi. This is a bit of a teaser and pretty soon the rest of the plot will be made clear. Thanks for reading and I hope the story won't disappoint. Please feel free to review for this and the upcoming chapters!


	2. Chapter II: From Father to Son

_Tick_. _Tock_.

'_Bloody hell._'

Slowly dragging his eyes away from the grandfather clock Draco once again gave his seating room a once over. The furniture and curtains were the same as they  
>had always been but no one could ignore the mustiness that now occupied every crevice of the Manor.<p>

Since the beginning of the school year Voldemort had entrusted the up keeping of the Death Eater agenda at Hogwarts to Draco. To say that he was happy to be given such a task would be a blatant lie. How could he want such a responsibility when failure meant the death of his family? No. The Malfoy heir was tired of having death threats constantly looming over his head. His life would be better if he could remain in the shadows of other Death Eaters with no special recognition from Voldemort. There were more important things than raising himself above the other Death Eaters. If only his father thought the same way…

'_How much longer do I have to_ wait_ here?_' Again, he made a quick glance at the clock, '_What could they be talking about?_'

"Draco."

The steely whisper cut through his thoughts as Draco rigidly stood up and made his way to his father's study. He let himself in, made a deep bow to his Lord, ignored his father and sat in the only chair left.

Voldemort barely acknowledged his presence before his eyes flit back to Lucius,"I am tired of waiting for… results."

Draco could feel the serpentine stare on him but he did not dare avert his gaze from the window.

"My lord, I assure you that Potter will be found," Lucius began to explain the mission's failure, "There will be no need for Bellatrix to interfere. I assure—"

"SILENCE." Behind steepled fingers Voldemort sneered at Lucius, "You have been given many chances, Lucius. I believe it is time for me to be true to my word and **_dispose_** of a certain witch."

The words which he had long feared rang in Draco's ears as his attention was finally brought to the current conversation. There was but one witch who truly mattered to the Malfoy men—or rather, to Draco. After all he had done he could not let his father's incompetence sentence his mother to death. Images of her—the only person left who he cared about—clouded his mind. Draco had to act fast and before his mind caught up with his mouth the fate-sealing words already had left his lips.

"I will find them," staring at Voldemort Draco continued, "I will succeed where my father has failed."

Silence.

_Tick_. _Tock_.

The Dark Lord's pupils constricted as a fragment of light caught his eyes. Taking his time, he examined the blond-haired boy before him.

"And how will I know that you will not turn out to be a disappointment like your father, young Malfoy?"

With eyes that were blank of all emotion Draco stood before his greatest fear, "I will do what even you, Lord, have neglected to do."

"Avada Kedavra."

_Tick. Tock._

* * *

><p><em>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<em>

Hey there! I would just like to thank everyone that has read these first two chapters. I know, they are pretty short, but once the plot picks up the chapters will also increase in length. Of course, if you guys prefer shorter chapters that's okay too. Again, thanks for reading and don't be hesitant to review with constructive criticism!


	3. Chapter III: Back to School

CHAPTER 3: Back to School

"**Stupefy**!" without hesitation Hermione continued launching hexes against her pursuers. "**Bombarda!**"

Her mind was in a flurry as she weaved her way through the trees. How could she have been so stupid? Somehow the Death Eaters had caught trace of her magic in the woods and pin-pointed her location. Hermione had spent the past couple of days planning her course of action. Her main objective was to reach Hogwarts and contact those that still remained loyal to Dumbeldore even after his death. She hoped that with their help she could get close enough to _him_ without letting Voldemort or Snape become aware of her presence. _He_ was the only one who could possibly help her carry out her plan.

The heat of a curse broke the Gryffindor out of her reverie as it came near enough to singe her hair. Without wasting a glance back Hermione decided that there was no point to avoid apparating; her cover had been blown.

With her heart pounding against her chest Hermione quickly envisioned the dark greens and grays of the Forbidden Forest.

A jet of red was all she saw before the magic pulled her away.

* * *

><p>"<strong>Crucio<strong>!"

A stream of blood coursed from Neville's forehead down to his toes until it dripped onto the stone dungeon floor. It had already been three hours of unrelenting torture, and all for what? His Gryffindor persona could not be pushed back; that little girl was only a first year, how could they dare…

"What have we here—another Gryffindor martyr?" A cloaked figure bellowed a low gravel of a laugh. " Care for another round, Longbottom? Wait—your opinion doesn't matter. Obsisteret aeris!"

_"Don't give… in. I won't let them think they have… beaten me…" _The sound of heels on the tiles brought Neville out of his thoughts.

" Fenrir, why must you mutts always hog all of the playthings? Be a gentleman, " the sneer was detectable even from Neville's spot on the floor, " and let me test out my new… inventions."

A subtle growl was Fenrir's only voiced objection.

"Fenrir: a mutt with a big bark and no bite."

The bottom of a tailor-made black velvet coat came into Neville's view.

"Speculum Spinis."

Images of broken and mutilated bodies streamed across Neville's mind before he finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>The rain was the first thing she noticed as she shockingly landed in the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. The second, was the aura that now mantled all of Hogwarts. Hermione had held on to memories of her school days filled with smiles, sun and warmth; all in vain. The castle itself had not changed aesthetically in the slightest since June. No—the change lied in the very air and soil of the grounds.<p>

_"This is not the Hogwarts I remember. Now all it reminds me of is a prison"_

Lost in her thoughts Hermione began the trek to the boulder situated a few feet behind Hagrid's cottage. Unknown to the rest of the student body (excluding Harry and Ron), a single incantation would reveal a hidden underground passage that leads to the Hogwarts kitchens. Hermione assumed that before it went into disuse, the house elves used the tunnel to easily reach the once plentiful gardens.

"Revela."

A door shaped outline etched itself onto the boulder and Hermione began her walk underground. After what seemed like only 10 minutes of walking, she was once again met by stone.

"Verum amet."

Gathering the famed Gryffindor valor, Hermione propped open the door enough to discern the inside of the kitchen. At first glance the kitchens seemed undisturbed by time; the elves were scuttling about as always and the pots were flying across the kitchens. But there were signs that could not be ignored by her. The feelings of rage and injustice from her S.P.E.W. days again rose like bile into her mouth when she noticed that the majority—if not all—of the elves sported thick knotted scars across their skin. The activist in her would bet her last knut that they were not from accidents, or even self-inflicted punishment.

Unable to keep herself from voicing her anger Hermione whispered, "What have they done to you? To Hogwarts?"

A small gasp was the only thing the brown haired girl heard before she was whisked out of the tunnel entrance.

"Dear Missus Herm'ne! Oh, the rumors weren't true," gasping for breath between her tears, Perpa the house elf clung to Hermione. "Harry Potter has finally come to save us!"

"Perpa! Do not be so loud, you could raise unwanted attention," Hermione was gentle as she carefully removed herself from the weeping Perpa.

After casting a silencing charm around the kitchens Hermione turned to the rest of the house elfs.

"I am sorry if i raised any false hopes," she addressed the huge, bright eyes in the room, "but Harry Potter did not come with me."

Shocked silence was her only response.

"I am unaware of the nature of the rumors I have just heard mentioned, but I will do all in my power to answer and calm your doubts."

For what seemed like an eternity no one spoke. A young elf with a tattered apron two feet too long poked his head from behind a wooden stool. Peering from behind, he quietly whispered, "Missus, is it true that 'arry Potter is dead?"

"No. When I last saw him a month ago he was still alive—and is still today."

Perpa inched closer to Hermione, "If he is well, then why is Missus back at school?"

"I know I can count on you. And I need your help, desperately."

Glad to be of service to one of the Chosen One's friends, Perpa and the house elves looked with rapt attention at the Gryffindor.

"I need to contact Draco Malfoy."

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

Thanks for reading this new chapter! The following are the translations for the hexes, jinxs, and/or spells I made up for the chapter.

Revela: reveal

Verum amet: true destination

Speculum Spinis: glass thorns. imbeds glass thorns/shards into a person's body.

Obsisteret aeris: blocked air. blocks the air from entering the airpath and chokes people.


	4. Chapter IV: Feathers

**Chapter IV: Feathers**

A collective shiver ran through the house elves."Missus wants to see Mr. Malfoy?" Perpa's lip trembled when she uttered his name. "Why does Missus want to see him?"

"I need his help to—," Hermione paused. "I'm sorry but that is all I can tell you for now."

"We will help Miss Herm'ne! We are all at your disposal," Perpa bowed until her ears grazed the floor.

Looking around at the small, beaten house elves Hermione began to feel a small surge of hope. The moment was broken when heavy steps and bantering echoed down the hallway leading to the fruit bowl painting. The house elves' ears flattened against their heads in fear. In the excitement they had forgotten that it was close to dinner time and Rodolphus was to come by for Bellatrix's personal meal. The demented witch demanded to be served only the best for both her and her Lord.

Months of training and dueling pushed Hermione into action. Her eyes flit to an open pantry that was partially hidden in the corner of the kitchen.

"Don't mention my presence to anyone," she said as she closed the pantry door behind her.

The walls of the pantry seemed to close in around her and beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. If she were caught, a swift death would be the least probable outcome considering the Death Eater's knack for torture. In the dim light Hermione couldn't discern any possible hiding place; she was vulnerable and she knew it.

A small whimper and a thud followed quickly after the portrait was swung open. From the small gap between the door Hermione saw Rodolphus swagger into the kitchen. As he made his way across the kitchen he shouted, "Where is my wife's dinner?!" he continued pacing between the tables. "Has she not made it clear that any type of... shall we say, _deficiency_ will be dealt with specifically by her?"

He ended his speech by taking a loud bite out of a green apple. Taking the plate from the trembling hands of a beaten house elf, the dark wizard pivoted on his heel and left. No one moved in the kitchen and Hermione slumped to the floor in joy. Thankfully he hadn't bothered in checking the pantry, and why should he have? She could only imagine him doing such a menial task. Picking herself up from the floor she slowly made her way out of the pantry and called Perpa over to her, "Does anybody else come here to the kitchens after dinner?"

"No, miss Hermione," she said. "He is the last one to come here and the only one that does."

The exhaustion from the day's tasks caught up to the bushy haired girl in an avalanche. There was nothing more she could bring herself to do for today. The pantry was no five star hotel but it would have to do for the night.

"Perpa, would you mind if I spent the night in the pantry?" Hermione asked the house elf. "I promise I will not be a nuisance."

Tears began to form in the house elf's huge eyes, "Oh how kind Miss Hermione is! It would be our honor to have you stay here."

After being given blankets, a pillow and hot chocolate Hermione quickly fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

><p>Splintered wood and shards of glass littered his private chambers and were the only proof that he was grieving. Draco's face was a mask and, besides aloofness, it did not betray the inner storm within him. His father had not been a loving man, on the contrary, Lucius Malfoy had been a bastard to both his wife and only son. Yet, how could one not mourn the loss of a father? Especially when it was one's own hand by which they were killed. For how ever long he lived Draco was sure that the look of surprise and betrayal in his father's eyes would always haunt him. He had tried to not become a monster like his father and here he was—the spitting image of Lucius. Lucius. Fucking. <em>Malfoy<em>.

With a grunt he tipped over his dark ebony desk and watched as parchment drifted to floor, light as feathers. It was only a name but in this world it defined who you were expected to be, and where your loyalties had to lie. Falling into his chair Draco tried to clear his mind. After killing Lucius, Voldemort had all but preened at the Malfoy heir.

"_Finally, a Malfoy worthy to bear the Death Eater mark," casting a sneer towards Lucius' cold body Voldemort turned towards Draco. "You will do very well. Pureblooded, powerful and willing to do whatever it takes. Tell me, are you loyal to me, your lord?"_

_ Still in shock from his first kill Draco did not respond._

_ "I will not repeat myself again. Are you _loyal _to me, Draco?" Voldemort dragged out his name as if tasting it on his tongue._

_ Survival instincts took over and he managed to respond with an affirmative, "Of course I am, my Lord. You have me at your service."_

Shortly after that Voldemort left the Manor but promised to visit him soon. Draco walked towards his room, locked it, and proceeded to unleash his frustration on everything in his wake. His mother tried to force her way in and through sobs asked him to let her in. The Slytherin Prince was deaf to her pleas which only incensed him more. To think that she would care for a monster like him! He deserved none of her tears. This is where he was now, sulking in his chair. Narcissa had left hours ago, after screaming her throat raw at the locked door.

Looking around at the wreck he had made, Draco's eyes landed on an enchanted globe his father had given him for his 11th birthday. Inside it there was an enchanted replica of Hogwarts that changed to mimic the original castle. At the moment rain was crashing down on the miniature Hogwarts and its grounds. Tomorrow he would be returning to Hogwarts. Only one thought came to his mind: Bloody hell.

* * *

><p>"Neville!"<p>

A cumulative gasp followed after the lanky boy stumbled into the room. Except for his flimsy attempt at a smile, the rest of Neville's face was unrecognizable. Cuts and bruises covered the visible parts of his body and spots of blood were blossoming on his tattered robes. A guttural "Hi" was all his battered body was able to utter before he collapsed on to the floor.

Ginny was the first to run to him and soon all of the students were helping lift him on to a long table that now served as a medical ward. Pulling her hair into a bun, Ginny sprang into action, "Hannah, go into the bureau and bring me some blood-replenishing potion," Ginny began to wash away the dried blood on his face. The white towel she was using was soon unrecognizable with the color of rust. Lost in her task Ginny didn't notice Neville's eyes flutter open. Drawing in ragged breaths, Neville captured Ginny's wrist in his hand, "Let me go, you bastards!"

The towel fell from Ginny's hand as she searched her fellow Gryffindor's eyes. The once deep pools of brown now were a blank slate. His eyes frantically wandered around the room without recognizing anything. Understanding washed over the ginger. Neville had been tortured beyond recognition. Ginny's voice shook, "Hannah. Knock him out."

"Why would you want that? Can't you see he has been hurt enough?"

"And he is hurting right now!" Her scream echoed in the room. "He doesn't know where he is, Hannah. They have destroyed his mind and now we have no way of bringing him back." Locking eyes with the blond, Ginny grabbed her wand, "Keeping him awake would only cause him more pain. And as his friend, would you want that?"

Shaking her head in a negative, Hannah backed away. Moments like these were not uncommon and when there was peace no one could help but feel on edge. Neville was by far one of the most outspoken against the Death Eaters that now roamed the halls. Some called it bravery, others stupidity. As for herself Hannah didn't know what to think. What did it matter if one was stupid or brave when in the end the result was the same? No longer did anybody gasp or shudder at the view of an unconscious body covered in blood.

Ginny sheathed her wand, "Dean and Seamus, please carry Neville over to a spare bed. Be careful not to move him too much. He has two broken ribs and the batch of Skele-Gro isn't ready yet."

No. Fighting back wasn't of any use. They would just break you the more for it.

* * *

><p>AN:

Sorry for the late update, life has been kind of hectic. Anyways, thanks to all who have read so far! It means a lot, really. Don't forget to review!


	5. Chapter V: Chocolate Cake

**Chapter V: Chocolate Cake**

"I can't wait until dinner. I'm starving."

If there was one thing that Draco was grateful for, it was his lackey's incessant talking. "Goyle, you just ate a trolley's worth of chocolate frogs."

Their intimidating size had its perks but sometimes Draco found their stupidity more useful. They often served as a distraction from the thoughts that often crossed his mind. He had become a murderer. His mother was on the brink on insanity. He had to torture people he had known since first year. All while pretending he enjoyed being a sadist.

Even though he had only returned two days ago, the dark aura of Hogwart's halls had already intoxicated him. Torture exhibitions replaced games of quidditch. All the paintings that were not in favor of Voldemort were locked away and replaced with Death Eater propaganda. Even the inoffensive awards and trophies of those who weren't approved by the new regime were hidden or destroyed.

"_At least now I don't have to see Scarface anymore. Or that insufferable bookworm and weasel that were always joined at the hip with him. Salazar's socks, one would have thought they had a threesome going on."_

Draco vaguely noticed as Pansy sat and snaked her hand around his side.

"_And why couldn't they take _her_ with them?"_

"I wonder what we will have for dessert tonight," Pansy slid her eyes over him. "Unless, of course, you have any ideas already in mind?"

"Maybe we'll have some of that chocolate cake we had a week and two days ago," Goyle's wistful eyes wandered. "That was a good day."

All conversation was cut off as Headmaster Snape walked into the room. He walked directly to his seat, waved his hand to make the food appear and assumed a stoic pose as his plate remained untouched. Nobody, besides Draco, seemed to notice his pensive behaviour. There was something peculiar about his godfather's posture that sent alarms ringing in Draco's mind. He tried to think about anything that might be causing Snape's change.

"...and then I told Millicent that if she wanted to play with Bones she would have to wait because it is my turn to try the Cruciatus on her tonight," Pansy paused. "Draco, are you even listening to me?"

"_Of course not."_

He shook her hand of his leg, "Yes. Please, continue your enthralling tale."

Draco needed to find a place where he could hear his own thoughts. Without warning he removed himself from the table. His eyes caught Goyle making a move to stand but a slight of his hand stopped him.

The sound of Pansy complaining about being left alone almost made him smile. Almost.

* * *

><p>"<em>Think of me as you listen to our song. Light of the stars, shimmer of the moon. The day is weary and so very long. Close your eyes with sleep, we'll be together soon..."<em>

Neville awoke in a cold sweat. He tried to move but couldn't move an inch of his legs or arms. His dream was fading but fragments of it still lingered. He had dreamed of his mother.

"Neville," a hesitant sigh. "Are you awake? Can you hear me?"

He hadn't opened his eyes yet, for fear of what they might see. But that voice seemed familiar. And familiar was comforting.

The battered boy opened his eyes slowly. "Yes," his vision was blurry and he didn't recognize the voice. "Who are you?"

Another sigh, "Neville, it's me. Ginny."

Soon the trademark red hair came into focus. As did her tired eyes. Those eyes reminded him of the world they now lived in. He didn't even remember when he had returned from the torture chambers. "Ginny, how long was I—"

Tremors raked his body without warning. It was unlike anything he had experienced before. He tried to stop his head from banging against the bed but only managed to nearly bite his tongue off.

"No, no! NO!" Ginny grabbed hold of his head. "I need gauze and a vial of Dreamless Sleep, now!"

As dots of color and pain danced behind his eyelids Neville heard Ginny call out once again for help before he blacked out.

* * *

><p>Two days.<p>

Two days of just sitting and waiting. This was definitely not how Hermione had imagined her plan to go. She was becoming restless in the pantry. The house-elves were nice company and were doing their best to make her comfortable, but that was exactly the problem. She was beginning to believe that they were _not_ avidly looking for Malfoy and trying to help her meet him. Whenever she asked if there were any advancements they simply shook their heads and reminded her  
>that he was very dangerous and went so far as to suggest to forget about her plan.<p>

"_As if I could ever do that! I left Harry and Ron because I believed I could pull this off and by Godric I will do it. __Now, if only I can convince the house-elves to help me..."_


	6. Chapter VI: Constrained

**Chapter VI: Constrained**

Perpa had a mission. In all of her years as an elf under the oath to serve Hogwarts never had she been tasked with something of such value. Gathering all of the courage her small body held, she bowed her head while trying to keep her limp ears out of the food that was practically overflowing from the glistening silver tray. _"Hmph. And to think that the _nice _misters and missus ain't got no good food in their bellies."_

Closing her eyes, the elf knocked rapidly on the ebony door in front. Half-hoping there was nobody in there at the moment, a grimace flashed across her face as she heard a muffled grunt granting her entrance. Haphazardly balancing the tray while opening the door Perpa managed to walk into the darkened room without tripping—as was her habit.

"What is this?"

Perpa offered the tray as an answer, "Perpa has come to deliver food, Master Malfoy."

The blonde glanced up from the papers strewn across his ebony desk and focused his sunken glare at the elf. Never had she seen such an abysmal look on the young Death Eater's face. Remembering her duty to the bushy haired witch Perpa set down the tray on the practical but elegant table in the middle of his dorm. "Perpa noticed Master did not eat. Perpa has brought food."

"Oh, lucky me. An _elf_ has come to my rescue," His sneer was chilling, "Get out before I do some very unpleasant things to your ridiculous ears."

Perpa squeaked and hurriedly left the room while clasping her ears to her face. There was no need for him to raise his voice. The look in his eyes was enough of a warning!

As soon as the ragged elf left his room in the dungeons Draco looked over to the tray of food. Now that he thought of it, he _was_ a tad hungry…

* * *

><p>An hour and a half later Draco opened his bleary eyes to settle upon...nothing. There was nothing but black. When he tried to rub them he found that his hands were constrained. And when he tried to curse he found a rag of some sort stuffed in his mouth. <em>"I will castrate WHOEVER THE FUCK DID THIS TO ME!"<em> Unable to take it any longer he tried to move his sore muscles in an attempt to escape whatever trap he had landed in. Somebody must have noticed his distress as he could begin to make out the blurred sound of a voice. A voice that sounded familiar but he couldn't quite place.

With the sound of an opening door he scooted back until he bumped into what felt like a very lumpy pillow. Footsteps moved into his personal bubble and with those footsteps came an incantation, "Muffliato."

Cold hands took away the rag in his mouth and the handkerchief masking his. After blinking away the dots that came with the fast exposure to light he was able to focus on the hazy figure in front. Knowing screaming would do him no good, the snake decided his plan of attack; stay quiet until their motives become clear. And all was well and good until he recognized his captor.

Yes, the hair was longer, dirtier and obviously enchanted to appear a lighter shade. Yes, the freckles had been disguised and her hair no longer a frizzy mess. But there was no hiding the eyes that had constantly been on the other end of his insults for the better part of his life.

"Fuck."

A rapid blinking followed what was, he guessed, the response she had least expected from him, "E-excuse me?"

Never one to not hold on to an opportunity once he saw it Draco continued, "I said, 'Fuck'," he leaned back into the lumpy pillow that he now saw was a bag of potatoes. "You know, the act of sex. Well, of course _you_ yourself might not know—." Here he bit his tongue. One thing was to taunt when he was in control of the situation. Another thing entirely was to give away information that could play against his favor. The witch obviously had tried to disguise herself but he, correctly, guessed that whatever potion had been placed in his food had not been as effective as she had hoped and he had woken up earlier than expected. Under pressure, she had forgotten to mask the eyes that were now her sole betrayal. No. He would see how this played out and learn as much as he could about why exactly he was trapped in a freaking pantry.

Hermione furrowed her brows as she began to feel her face redden, "Never mind about that. Now, if you haven't noticed we are in the middle of a war. You are on the wrong side of it but in this case, it is in my favor that you are."

Grey eyes met her own. She continued, "I have a proposition for you. One that if you accept, might change the course of history as we know it."

The grey eyes that were trained on her like a laser beam focused even more. "And what if I don't? As far as I'm concerned I am on the _winning_ side. Now, you could argue that not all winners have been on the 'right' side of war but as luck would have it _I don't bleeding care_. As long as me and my own are safe," he gave her a patronizing smile, "Well, what more could a bloke ask for?"

Hermione knew that the path she had chosen would not be easy but, Merlin help her. There he was sitting in a pantry closet with his hands tied behind his back resting against a sack of potatoes and he still made her feel small. _"**No**. Now it isn't just me. There are so many more people that will suffer through worse than I have if people like _him _aren't removed from power!"_ Steeling herself, she crouched down so she could be at his eye-level, and, with the best sneer she could muster she softly said, "I'm sure an _imperius_ would be quick to solve that pesky little problem of self-will now, wouldn't it?"


End file.
